Confessions of a So-Called Murderer
by ParisIsBurning
Summary: When Gwen is falsely accused of murdering both her husband and several others living within her town, she must leave her fairy-tale life behind and live on the run from the law, falling deeper and deeper into a pit of trouble and petty crime.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was a story that I had originally written a couple of years ago. I really liked it but felt that the writing was a bit off. Rather than continuing it, I decided to start it over so I could tweak a few things and pave way for a better storyline. I hope you guys enjoy!**

**In this story, TDWT never happened.**

**xxxxxxxx**

There it was. _That_ place. The place that brought brutal memories to my mind each time someone even made a slight reference to it. I had hoped and hoped I'd never have to see this place again, but here I was. Seeing it brought chills to my entire body and I felt as if the blood had been drained from my body.

Camp Wawanakwa.

At twenty-one years old, my life had already felt as if it ended, and it was easy to blame this place for the very death of my sanity, or sense of opportunity. I was only sixteen when I competed here for $100,000. I didn't win, but I came in a very close second, and the producers reimbursed my efforts with a decent stack of cash. But more than that, I became a bit of a celebrity. I let it get the best of me, really. I did finish high school, and I'm proud of myself for that, but university certainly didn't happen. Who needs it when you're a celebrity? But new seasons started, and along with them came newer, younger competitors. Before long, the original twenty-two of us were nobodies.

A couple of years later, I found myself in a small, stuffed apartment and a part time job waitressing at a local café. Combined with a small sum of money from a trust fund, it was enough to pay the bills. I got by.

There, I met Jack.

I was immediately drawn to his beautiful green eyes, or maybe his soft, jet black hair. I fell weak at the knees every time I saw him. I guess the feelings were returned, because he ended up asking me out.

He didn't have the _greatest _personality. Far from it, I'd say. He loved video games. It was almost sort of hard to get his attention, especially in a particularly challenging level of Call of Duty. He'd call me names a lot. Bitch. Slut. Get in the kitchen, filthy whore. You're good for nothing. I hated him so much. But every time I looked into those green eyes…I couldn't resist.

My thoughts were cut short when I was approached by Chris, grinning his same goofy grin that had always made me want to punch him in the face. He had changed, though. He'd grown a potbelly, and a _lot _of wrinkles. He was balding, too. Kind of bittersweet to see, I guess.

"Ah, Gwenny! You haven't changed one bit!" Chris exclaimed with a shit-eating smile.

"Really? Because _you _have," I groaned, rolling my eyes.

"Still sarcastic, I see."

Chris grabbed my wrist and led me to a large white bullseye painted on the ground.

"Your former teammates are at Playas Des Losers, but, in the spirit of the game, you'll have to complete a mini challenge to get there!" Chris beamed.

I yanked my wrist away from his grip. "No way. I've had enough of this sadistic bullshit. Just take me to Playas Des Losers or I'm taking myself!"

Chris sighed. "_Fine._Catch the boat at the end of the dock over there."

xxxxx

As I approached Playas Des Losers, I noticed Leshawna and Bridgette at the end of the dock, waving excitedly and screaming my name. I couldn't help but to giggle like a total idiot. No matter how long it had been, we were all still pretty close and pretty excited to see one another.

"Gwen! God it's been so long!" Leshawna screamed as she pulled me into a huge hug.

Bridgette squeezed between us, joining the hug. "You look so good! You've really changed! Wow!"

I didn't really think my appearance change was anything to gush about. I'd grown dark circles under my eyes. My hair had grown out a bit; I guess that was a good thing. I'd had to get rid of the blue streaks for work, though. I'd also ditched my "goth" phase for something a little more gentle: jeans and a t-shirt. I wasn't exactly _happy _about it, but it was a small sacrifice for a steady income.

Bridgette motioned us to the door. "Come on! We're all meeting up in the common area. Lindsay, Tyler, Noah, Trent, and Harold are already here. We're waiting on everybody else."

Trent?! Oh no.

As the three of us approached the door, Leshawna gasped as she caught sight of my left hand.

"Is that a ring on your finger?!" Leshawna squealed. "Like, a _ring _ring?"

"No _way!" _Bridgette screamed, picking up my hand and examining the ring closely. "Who's the lucky guy?!"

My face started to burn. It wasn't an engagement ring, it was a promise ring. Mainly because I was too afraid to make a serious commitment. He'd proposed, but it just…didn't feel right. So we decided to just make it more of a _promise _instead. Weak, I know. And I certainly wasn't going to tell Bridgette and Leshawna.

"His name is Jack!" I did my best to fake enthusiasm. "I, uh, met him at work. We've been together for a little over a year now."

Bridgette and Leshawna nearly died from excitement. They both asked a million questions, talking over each other a mile a minute. When was the wedding? How did he propose? Did I have a dress yet? Should they take me dress shopping? Who's going to be the maid of honor? Blah blah blah. I felt so overwhelmed. My face fell into an awkward half-grin.

"We're still, uh, working out the details. It, uh, just happened." Lies. He'd proposed six months ago.

Leshawna and Bridgette looked to each other quizzically, and then back to me.

"Well, uh, you can tell us more about it inside?" Bridgette asked, opening the door.

I nodded wordlessly, hoping I could change the subject as quickly as possible.

I took a few minutes to say hello to everybody. Most of them hadn't changed much. Lindsay had a breast reduction, giving her skintight red top a much more modest look. Harold had ditched the greasy long-haired look for a much cleaner, short cut. Tyler and Noah…well, _nothing _changed whatsoever.

Trent stepped into the room shortly after, carrying a plate of appetizers. His eyes widened as our eyes met.

My face was practically purple. "Hey Trent…"

He smiled awkwardly. "Oh…hey Gwen. How have you been?"

"Good. I'm good. And you?"

"Oh you know…good."

I felt an unnecessary flutter in my heart, followed by a sharp pain in my chest. God, looking at him was ten times harder than thinking about him. Twenty times harder maybe.

"Hey everybody, guess what?" Leshawna announced. "Gwen has a fiancé!"

Everybody in the room took a giant, collective gasp, followed by a squeal from Lindsay and Harold.

"No way! What's his name? What does he look like? Ooh, I just LOVE weddings!" Lindsay clapped her hands together excitedly.

I sighed. "Guys, this really isn't necessary."

Bridgette jumped onto an empty couch. "Of course it is! You're getting _married_! Harold, go get your laptop. Does he have a Facebook? We _have _to see him!"

As Harold made a mad dash to his bedroom, the tension (well, it was tense to me, anyways) was momentarily relieved as Courtney and Duncan entered, hand in hand, carrying a baby carriage.

"Hello everybody!" Courtney waved and smiled as the two of them took a seat next to Bridgette, setting the baby carriage on the floor beside them and revealing a small baby bump on Courtney. The two of them shared a kiss as they sat down, still holding hands.

"Well what do you know? The happy couple has survived and thrived!" I joked, hoping to completely divert the attention away from my predicament.

Courtney scowled at me as Duncan snickered lightly.

"We just celebrated our second wedding anniversary, I'll have you know. Things have been _great _for us," Courtney replied, using her shit-eating smile at full force. She gently rubbed Duncan's arm. "I couldn't ask for a better life with Duncy-poo here!"

The two smiled and shared a kiss. I wanted to gag.

I almost got the chance to ask about the baby, or the soon-to-be-baby, but Harold came running back in with his laptop in hand.

Duncan turned his attention to me. "Fiancé, huh?"

I scratched the top of my shoulder and giggled nervously. "Yeah…kind of…yeah."

"Is this that Jack guy? I thought it was just a promise ring?"

"Oh well, you know…things…happen I guess…you know?"

Courtney turned her attention to me and shot me a fake, shit-eating smile. "You and Duncan have been talking, I see?"

I rolled my eyes. "Every now and again. Nothing to be _worried _about. We talk casually every couple of weeks."

"Relax, babe. There's nothing to be worried about. Trust me, the only reason she's even _with _that Jack guy is because he resembles Trent. She's hung up over him…"

"DUNCAN!" I screamed. I glanced up and noticed the shock in everybody's faces. Harold's computer had Jack's Facebook page pulled up already. Guess they'd found him under my profile.

"He…does _kind_ of look like Trent…" Bridgette noted.

"Kind of?" Noah scoffed. "The guy's practically a dead-ringer doppelganger!"

Tears began to well in my eyes. My face had gone from burning to numb. I could feel the coloring draining.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about! I-I love Jack and it…he does not look like Trent…I…" It was no use.

The room went silent.

"Fine. Yeah. He does kind of look like Trent, I guess. You know what? He's a total douchebag! But I'm lonely! I have nobody else in my life and I'll take him over nothing! And yes, it's only a promise ring. Laugh all you want. I'm too afraid to commit, I guess. Are you guys happy?!"

I stormed off into one of the empty bedrooms, sobbing hysterically.

xxxxx

"Hey, you forgot this in the common room."

A short time later, Trent entered the room, carrying my suitcase, smiling softly.

I could barely see out of my eyes. They had gotten really red and puffy. My nose was completely stuffed up. I felt like a total mess. I couldn't believe myself. I'd broken down in front of_ everybody_…worst of all, I'd broken down in front of Trent.

"What do you want, Trent? Do you want to laugh at me? I'm pathetic."

Trent sat down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

Words came out of my mouth like word vomit. "Because I was the biggest idiot _ever_! I let you go! I dumped the most amazing man I'd ever met in my life because I'd let fame get to my head. I loved you so much. I was so stupid, and I've hated myself ever since. I deserve it, though, breaking your heart on national television like that…you have _every _right to laugh at me."

"I could…but I'm not, am I?"

"I hate myself, Trent. I really, truly, hate myself. I would give my life to go back in time and keep myself from letting you go."

Trent grabbed my hand and softly stroked it. "I miss you too, Gwen."

"Why? Why would you still want to be with somebody like _this?" _I exclaimed, tears falling back down my face. "Did you just suddenly change your mind because you felt bad for me out there, making a fool of myself?"

Trent sighed. "Maybe I changed my mind a long time ago. Maybe I only made this trip because I changed my mind. Maybe I wanted a chance, more than anything. Maybe all I wanted was for you to love me back. To finally _truly _love me back."

I was taken aback. "Trent…did you really? Or are you just saying that?"

"Does it really matter at this point?"

He took my hand, and a spark flew between us. My tears dried as I looked into his eyes. Those warm, green eyes. Words suddenly didn't matter anymore.

"I've always loved you Gwen, and I always will," Trent announced softly, pulling me into one of the best kisses I'd had in my life.

xxxxx

As I waited for Trent to finish brushing his teeth and come to bed, I pulled out a picture from that night, of the two of us kissing on the dock.

Things had changed for the better since that night. I was twenty-seven now, and my life had finally felt like it was going somewhere again. I finally had the nerve to leave Jack, relocating instead to live with Trent. Though money was tight at first, we managed to build a life for ourselves. He'd found a great job with a nearby music studio, and I'd found a part-time job at another café, giving me time to spend around the house. We married and had a beautiful daughter, Ruthie, who was about to turn four. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world sometimes. My dreams had come true: a beautiful home, a beautiful daughter…but most of all, Trent.

"Looking at the picture again?" Trent chuckled as he hopped into bed beside me, hugging me from behind.

"It was the best day of my life," I smiled as I pushed myself closer to him.

"You mean the best day of _our _lives," Trent replied, kissing my head. "I guess it's a good thing that punk friend of yours said something, huh?"

I rolled my eyes. In the moment, I had wanted to kill Duncan for his little _accident. _But all was forgiven.

"How is Duncan doing, anyways?" Trent asked. "Have you guys talked lately?"

I shrugged. "It's been awhile. He must've gotten busy. At the rate he and Courtney were going, they've probably popped out ten kids by now!"

The two of us shared a laugh as Trent turned the lights out.

"Goodnight, Gwen."

"Goodnight, Trent."

And with that, I'd drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

xxxxx

I jerked awake in the middle of the night, an unusual occurrence for me. I was usually able to sleep through just about anything. But it had seemed that I'd heard a bunch of screaming, both in my bedroom and in the neighborhood. I'd thought it was just a bad dream.

However, as I turned on the lights, my world was turned upside down. Within one night, I had gone from living at the top of the world to living my worst nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

I was startled awake by the sounds of sirens and bright, blinking lights all up and down the street. Sure, sirens would eventually come and go throughout the night, but never this intense.

_"_What the hell is going on outside?" I muttered to myself as I sat up. I turned and looked at my alarm clock. 2 AM.

Suddenly, I noticed a gooey, squishy substance covering me and the bed, sloshing around with my every movement. Blood. Must've been the time of the month.

"Trent, sweetie, do you hear those sirens outside? I hope they don't wake Ruthie!" I exclaimed as I leaned over to turn the lamp on my nightstand on.

To my horror, the light revealed a massive amount of blood, completely drenching the sheets. There was no _way _I could have bled that much. In fact, I had never seen so much blood before in my life.

"Trent? Why is there blood all over the sheets? Wake up!" I screamed as my breaths grew shallow from nerves. "What's happening! I'm getting scared!"

I stood up and heard a loud _clink _fall to the floor as my feet touched the ground. I looked down and noticed a large, blood-covered knife. I screamed.

Was I stabbed in my sleep?

I examined my whole body, feeling for any stab wounds or massive amounts of blood. But there was nothing. Only a few spots of blood that had leaked onto me from the sheets.

I got a greater look at my surroundings. Blood not only covered the sheets, but a good amount of the floor, too.

"Trent!" I screamed, practically at the top of my lungs. "Trent! What is going on?! Are you awake? Please wake up!"

I jumped back onto the blood-soaked bed, shaking Trent's body violently in hopes of getting his attention. However, as he rolled face-up, I noticed that his eyes were wide open, bloodshot. Blood seeped from his mouth, which was turning a pale green color. He was dead. No question about it.

"This has to be a dream! A sick, twisted dream! This can't be real! There's no way!" I burst into tears as I fell back onto my side of the bed, and eventually the floor, where I not only hit my head, but nicked the heel of my foot with the end of the blood. A wave of intense pain followed. Maybe it wasn't a dream.

I picked up the knife and ran it against my arm, trying so hard not to feel it, so hard for it not to be true. "Wake up Gwen! Wake up Gwen!" I screamed. There was no use.

I crept up close to my window, where the sirens were still going at full blast. I noticed large pools of blood shining under the street lights; most of them blocked off by police tape. A couple of officers stood just outside of my house, one taking notes.

"Seven are confirmed dead, Officer Stan. Two are in critical condition in the hospital, one appears to have suffered mild injuries," one of the officers noted, as the other (Officer Stan?) hurriedly scribbled notes down.

"A majority of the blood leads us here, to the Peterson household. We believe that the Peterson family may be dead or in critical condition. Their house is next on our list," the officer continued. Officer Stan nodded as he continued jotting notes down. He then shook his head.

"I noticed Gwen Peterson in the window a few moments ago, pacing around her room. She didn't appear injured whatsoever. She's one of our prime suspects, considering the massive amounts of blood leading to their household. The status of Trent and Ruthie Peterson are unknown as of yet."

The other officer nodded. "We are about to finish inspection of the Gutierrez household to confirm there are no more injuries on this street before we inspect the Peterson household. We are going to place Gwen and possibly Trent if he is alive under immediate arrest, as the prime suspects."

They wanted to arrest me. People were dead, and I was the prime suspect.

I looked back to the bloodied knife. They were sure to find it, and my sentencing would be imminent. How could this even happen? How would a bloody knife just _appear _under my arm?

I felt a cool breeze hit my face and shoulders from the window.

The window.

I was certain that I had closed it last night. I remembered, because it had gotten stuck a few centimeters before being shut completely, and I had gotten frustrated for a little while before giving up. But the window was completely open. Somebody had to have opened it and climbed in.

Suddenly, it all started to click. Somebody had climbed through the window and disposed of their bloody knife in my bed, murdering Trent in the process. Some sick, perverse, bastard. But the evidence was pointing all to me.

Before my emotions had even hit me, adrenaline took over my body, and I could only think of one thing: escaping.

I knew I didn't have much time. I ran to the closet and grabbed a duffle bag, filling the bag with only essentials: some spare cash, my cell phone charger, a map, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and a couple of changes of clothes.

I quickly and quietly ran downstairs, using my phone as a flashlight to navigate. I ran into the kitchen and filled the rest of the bag with as much food and water as I could.

Next, I ran to Ruthie's room, where, to my relief, she was sleeping sound, unaware of what was happening around her.

I kneeled by her bed and shook her gently.

Ruthie groaned and turned to face me. "Mommy, what are you doing?"

"Ruthie! Sweetheart! You and I…we're going on an… adventure. Like Dora the Explorer. I need you to pack like we're going to go visit Grandma. Pack a couple of clothes and your toothbrush and hairbrush." I ran to her dresser and pulled a small bag out as she tossed random shirts and pairs of pants towards me, giggling. Normally I would've scolded her, but in this moment, the more clothes, random or not, the better. I ran to her bathroom and grabbed her toiletries, hurriedly stuffing them into her bed.

Ruthie scratched her head. "Mommy, it's still dark out! You can't go outside when it's dark! We're supposed to be _sleeping!"_

"I'll explain later, Ruthie, I promise. Right now we just need to leave as quickly as possible. Okay?"

As Ruthie and I made our way back into the kitchen, we heard a loud banging on the front door.

"This is the police. We order you to open this door this instant or we're coming in!" A voice screamed from outside. "I repeat, open this door _immediately_. We have a warrant to search and seize!"

I brushed my hand against Trent's keys, remembering that he had a spare to his mother's car a couple of blocks away. Perfect. I could take her car and drive away as quickly as possible. She hadn't been able to drive it for years now. It would surely take her a few days to notice it was missing. A few days was more than enough to get as far away as possible.

"This is a final warning. Please open the door immediately! This is the police!"

I grabbed Ruthie's wrist and the car keys and quickly dashed to the back door next to the kitchen, sliding it open carefully.

"Mommy, where's Dad? Is he coming?" Ruthie asked.

I pulled the both of us out of the door and into the woods next to my house. "Daddy isn't coming with us. He's going to, uh, meet us later on!"

Running two blocks in the forest was not ideal, to say the least. Ruthie had a hard time keeping up, to the point that I had to carry her the rest of the way, which was heavy considering we had two bags on us. The only thing that kept me going was fear and major adrenaline, which thankfully had yet to wear off.

The car was sitting in the back of the driveway, not in the garage, thank God. Without hesitation, I threw the bags onto the passenger seat and buckled Ruthie into the backseat.

"Mommy, why are we taking Nana's car without Nana?" Ruthie asked innocently. Man, I hated how much little kids asked questions.

I started the engine and began backing out. "It's because, uh, it's part of the adventure. We take Nana's car because it's more suitable for the adventure we're taking. Yeah."

"Did you ask Nana if you could use it?" Ruthie folded her arms.

I managed to make it onto the street without majorly disturbing anybody. "Yes, Ruthie, I did. She said it was okay."

I began driving aimlessly, doing my best to take as many back roads as possible, avoiding any large crowds of people or, even worse, cops. After about thirty minutes, I found an old, abandoned lot in the middle of nowhere. I made sure to pull into the way back and turned the engine and lights off, making the car practically invisible.

I climbed into the back of the car, where Ruthie had already fallen asleep. I pushed the other seat down, creating a decent amount of space for sleeping.

I hopped back into the driver's seat and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts in attempt to find a place I could stay and hideout for the next little while, until I could think of a plan.

My parents would be too obvious. So would anybody in town, for that matter. Bridgette and Leshawna, as great as they were, would be terrible at trying to hide a criminal. They were too…well, good.

I scrolled over Duncan's name. Perfect. He lived just a couple hours away and would surely be well versed in avoiding the law.

I pressed the talk button on my phone, hoping to leave him a quick voicemail before getting some sleep.

To my surprise, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Duncan? I didn't wake you, did I?" I hadn't expected him to pick up.

"Nah, man, I'm always up this late. How come you're calling? It's been a while since I've heard from you."

I sighed. "I am in _huge _trouble. I don't know how it happened or why, but I need a place to stay. Like, _hide _stay."

Duncan chuckled. "Running from the cops, eh?"

"Duncan please! I'll explain everything later, just, please. I'm begging. I will literally do _anything._"

"Relax! You can crash here if you want. I know the feeling. You coming tonight?"

I had wanted to try to get some sleep, but I figured it would be easier to drive while still on an adrenaline high rather than disoriented after waking up.

"I guess I am…" I muttered. "It'll be a couple of hours. Can you wait up?"

"Yeah, sure thing. I'll be up. You have to promise to tell me what's up though. I can't wait to hear what sort of shit you've gotten yourself into."

Normally I would've been annoyed, but at the moment, I was just grateful I had a place to go.

I restarted the engine and pulled back onto the road, keeping a map handy. I'd had his address written in my phone, though I'd never found the time to visit before.

After a few miles, Ruthie woke up once again.

"Mommy, are we still going on our adventure?"

"Yes, sweetheart. We're still going on an adventure."

And I realized, with a twinge of worry in my heart, that staying with Duncan _would _be an adventure, to say the least.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I reckon I should mention somewhere that I don't own anything. Obviously, I don't. Except Ruthie. I think I own her.**

**Anywho, enjoy!**

**xxxxxxxx**

I pulled up to my destination, flinching a little as the tires crunched against the loose rocks that were supposed to pass off as a "driveway". The house itself was rather small and situated in the middle of nowhere. The outer walls were painted a tacky, bright yellow color and the roof was positioned awkwardly on top, being far too big for the tiny house underneath. There were only a couple of windows, which were specked and tinted with a hint of brown, most likely from a lack of cleaning. Wild grass grew in all directions, only a small portion of it actually looking anywhere remotely close to green. Needless to say, this place didn't look exactly desirable.

I grabbed a sleeping Ruthie and our bags from the backseat and carried her over my shoulder as I approached the front door. Inside the house was pitch black, except for a TV playing some sort of late-night infomercial.

"This isn't exactly a place to raise a _family_…" I muttered as I knocked on the door.

No answer.

"Duncan? Is this your house? Hello?" I called out.

The door swung open as a gust of wind blew past. I peeked my head and found Duncan passed out on the couch.

I sighed. "I figured you would fall asleep." I stepped inside and grabbed a stone from the porch to hold the door closed. "Duncan? I'm here!"

Duncan startled awake. "Gwen?"

"Yes Duncan?"

"Oh good, you made it," he slurred. "First door on the right…" He slouched back onto the couch and fell back asleep, snoring loudly.

I marched towards the hallway, opening the door to my new room. The walls were a bland white, with a few stains here and there. One beat up twin sized bed was placed in the corner near the rather dirty window. One of the rickety doors to the closet had fallen down onto the stain-ridden carpet. Gross as it was, it was still better than nothing.

I pulled the blanket back from the bed and climbed in with Ruthie. The bed was very firm and lumpy, and the sheets were very scratchy.

I closed my eyes and, before I knew it, I was passed out.

xxxxx

I woke up feeling very disoriented. The events of the night before had nearly disappeared from my memory after passing out the night before. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my neck, looking around the room. The memories from the night before sunk in as the stench of mold filled my nose.

The adrenaline had worn off, and emotions quickly flooded into my body. The image of seeing Trent dead, the knife, the trails of blood down the street, the police officers…I felt a wave of tears and nausea attack me at full force, to the point where all I could do was squeeze my pillow and scream before panting heavily.

"No…this can't…this doesn't…" I felt myself losing my breath. "I'm innocent! I want to go home! I want Trent! Trent!"

Words completely escaped me, to the point where all I could do was cry and dry heave.

After a few minutes, a knock came from the door, followed by Duncan and Ruthie.

Duncan had definitely changed. The last time I had seen him, he had been cleaning his appearance up, presumably for Courtney. A neat, short black haircut, decent clothes (well, kind of), and piercings gone. But now…he looked worse than he had ever looked before. His hair was matted and greasy. He had overgrown stubble growing in uneven patches around his wrinkled lips and yellow teeth. And to top it off, he had walked in with nothing on except a pair of too-small boxers.

"Good morning sunshine," Duncan snickered before catching sight of me. His face fell and his eyes widened. "Gwen…oh my _god!"_

I took a couple of deep breaths and wiped the tears from my cheek, still shaking. "Wh-what t-time is it?"

"Three PM. Eh, who cares." He stepped closer to me and took a seat on the floor.

"Mommy!" Ruthie shouted from the doorway. I guess she had managed to wander out of the room earlier. "Mommy why are you all red and puffy? Are you okay?"

"Yes, sweetie, I'm fine."

Duncan turned to Ruthie. "Hey, kid, why don't you go watch TV or something? The remote's on the couch. Just be careful. No watching a porno or anything."

Ruthie smiled. "Okay!" She started to walk away, then stopped. "What's a porno?"

"Sweetheart, just go!" I urged. Duncan stood up and shut the door behind her.

Duncan chuckled as he sat back down. "Okay. What the _hell _did you get yourself into?!" His breath reeked of beer already.

"I…it's crazy Duncan. Completely crazy and completely out of the blue!" I burst into tears again.

Duncan sat his hand on my lap. "Woah! Calm down! Just tell me what happened!"

"Trent!" I screamed. "Trent is dead! I woke up last night and he was dead…and there was blood…the window was opened and there was a knife in the bed next to me covered in blood…and…seven people were dead already in my neighborhood…they want me…they were looking for me. They were coming for me, Duncan!"

Duncan laughed nervously. "Woah okay Gwen…are you sure you didn't just take a really bad hit of something?"

"No!" I screamed.

Ruthie cracked open the door, grinning. "Mommy! Come here! You're on TV!"

"What?!" I screamed, popping up and practically dashing out of the room.

"The primary suspect, twenty-seven year old Gwen Peterson, has been reported as missing. Though spotted inside her house as police were investigating the neighborhood, upon entering the Peterson household both Gwen and daughter Ruthie, four, were not to be found," the TV blared.

I turned the corner to see a picture of me, full screen on the TV. The picture shrunk and the news anchor came back onto the screen.

"Oh my God…"I whispered, shaking.

"The police found large amounts of blood pooled on the sheets and floor of the Peterson household next to a dead Trent Peterson, also twenty-seven. The police also found a large knife covered in blood within a couple of inches of the bed. Six trails of blood and pieces of torn clothing were found leading to the Peterson household after further investigation."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Duncan slowly backing away from me, eyes widened.

I turned around, at which point he completely dashed away. I followed.

"Duncan! It's not what you think! Please!"

I finally managed to tackle and pin him down before he could reach any sort of phone or weapon. Anything that could do harm to me, really.

"Duncan," I whispered. "It wasn't me."

"And what makes you think I would believe you? Man I thought you were hiding out for something minor, like a drug arrest or something! You murdered _people_!"

"Duncan you have to trust me. I loved Trent with all of my heart." Tears starting pouring out of my eyes. "I would have never wanted to hurt him. I would have never wanted to hurt any of the victims. But most of all…my Trent. He was perfect…and now he's gone…he's gone…" Once again, I was reduced to crying and dry heaving.

Duncan sat up and put his arm on my back. "Gwen, you're really starting to scare me. I need you to promise me you'll be okay."

"Duncan…" I practically choked out. "Please tell me you believe me."

We locked eyes for several seconds. His bright blue eyes softened. Mine probably did too.

"Okay…" he whispered. "I believe you."

xxxxx

After showering (and subsequently crying my eyes out), getting dressed, and feeding Ruthie, I felt somewhat calmed down. My flare of emotions had dulled to a sort of numb, empty feeling.

Duncan brewed us some coffee and we sat on the couch, chatting.

"Where's Courtney? Is she at work or something? And…where are the kids?" I had been so distraught I had barely noticed that he had been…well, alone.

Duncan froze, as if I had hit a sore spot. Maybe I had.

"Courtney's…not around anymore. We broke up…" he whispered. "She has custody of the kids. I can only see them on weekends, but she never _actually _lets me…" He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. "It was time to get rid of her, anyways. She was a total bitch."

"Duncan, I'm so sorry…" I muttered.

"Eh. You know. I get by."

I glanced around the room. Most of the furniture was old and practically rotting, with bunches of holes in them. The walls were off-colored. The entire room reeked of cigarettes and beer.

"How did you end up _here?" _I asked.

We were both startled by the door busting open, followed by the sound of heels clacking against the tile.

"DUNCYPOO! I'm home!" a familiar voice shouted from the doorway.

To my horror, Heather stepped into the room, grinning ear to ear. Her hair was long once again, but with disgusting split ends and random mats. Her makeup was caked on: too-dark foundation, bright blue eyeshadow, bright pink lipstick. She was wearing a uniform to a local grocery store.

Duncan jumped up, smiling a cheesy smile that I had never seen before in all my years of knowing him. "Heather Bear!" The two embraced. "How was work?"

"Oh you know, it was okay. I was just happy to get home to my Duncan!"

I rolled my eyes. "God! Gag me now!"

Heather pulled out of the hug and turned to me, putting an arm on her hip.

"And look what we have here! Gwen the mass-murderer. I hear you're all over national news now. I'll be nice and won't tell on you, but you should know that I have a gun in my room and I'm _not _afraid to use it." Heather winked before cackling.

"Relax, Heather Bear. It wasn't her. Somebody framed her. Gwen wouldn't hurt a fly," Duncan interjected.

Heather rolled her eyes. "Whatever. She's your stowaway, not mine. Would you like a bite to eat, Duncypoo?"

"Sure Heather Bear!"

And with that, Heather hopped off into the kitchen. Duncan groaned and collapsed back onto the couch next to me.

"You're with _HHHeather_dlsfjsdlkjfsd

_Heather _now?" I asked, eyes widened in shock.

Duncan ran his hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Look. I was in a tough situation, okay? I had nowhere to go. She was willing to take me with open arms…and was _more _than willing to form a relationship. I have to go along with it if I want a place to stay…"

"Just…make sure she doesn't kill me? Please?"

xxxxx

Staying at Duncan and Heather's house proved to be more of a challenge than I thought. Duncan and Heather both liked to drink a _lot. _Heather was a chain smoker and the entire house consistently reeked. The two threw parties almost every night. I tried my best to keep Ruthie locked up in our room, but she would wander sometimes. I hated myself for letting her get exposed to all of what was going on. I felt like I was stripping her of her innocence.

I had never seen Duncan in such a bad shape. Sure, he had always been Mr. Tough Guy, but he had seemingly spiraled out of control completely. I would ask him sometimes, if he was happy the way he was.

"Gwen, I'm fine! I don't know why you keep asking! My life is great the way it is now!" he would always shout back, usually in a drunken slur.

I knew I was supposed to be grateful. He was letting me hide, giving me a chance to live as a free woman. But it made me sick to see him practically throw himself away.

Finally, one morning I decided to confront him.

We were sitting on the couch, both sipping coffee. I had managed to catch him early enough, before he had a chance to start drinking.

"Duncan, I need you to listen to me," I stated blatantly.

"Yeah? What's the matter?"

I sighed, my hands trembling from the caffeine kick. "Duncan, you're throwing your life away here. This is not okay, the way you're living. It's pathetic, actually." My voice grew louder and angrier. "Duncan you are twenty-seven years old! The rest of us had to grow up and figure things out for ourselves! You can't just act like a kid anymore! You deserve to do so much more with your life than rot here at a house that's not even yours! You can call me a bitch, you can hate me, you can even kick me out, but I can't sit by and watch you continuously deteriorate. You're a grown man Duncan. It's time to fucking act like one!"

The room went silent. Duncan turned himself away from me. After several seconds, I heard soft weeping.

I scooted myself closer to Duncan. "Are you…crying?" I asked nervously.

"I know, Gwen. I know."

I was shocked. It was _extremely _unlike Duncan to cry- ever.

"Duncan?"

Duncan turned to face me. His face was red and puffy.

"I know Gwen. I know how pathetic my life is, okay? I had a perfect life. I had the woman of my dreams and three beautiful children. Things were changing for me. And then it was all gone. Just like that. She kicked me out, made me leave and abandon the life I had built. So yes, I've been miserable. I drink. I party. I pretend to like Heather in exchange for not having to do anything because I've pretty much given up, okay? Are you happy? I finally admitted. The delinquent failed at life. The delinquent got what he deserved!"

More silence. I was frozen in shock. I had never seen Duncan so…weak.

"Duncan. You don't have to give up…" I muttered softly.

"At this point…why not?" Duncan leaned his head against the sofa.

"Because, you can't! Look what's happened to me! I'm struggling like never before…I feel pain that I couldn't even fathom before! But I keep going. I have to keep going. I have to find a way to keep surviving under conditions that seem nearly impossible. And I need to know that you can, too."

I stood up from the couch and walked away, leaving a distraught Duncan on the couch. I don't know why. I think I just wanted to give him some space to ponder his life. Or maybe the emotions were getting too intense for me.

After a couple of hours of feeding and playing with Ruthie, Duncan charged into the room, grinning his usual devious grin.

"Let's run away from here!"

I set Ruthie down and stood up. "Duncan, what are you talking abo-"

"You were right, Gwen. This is my chance to leave and start a new life. We can run away and both try to start over. We can be new people. We can leave everything behind. You and me. Duncan and Gwen, best friends. We'll have each other's back. Right?" Duncan had returned to his usual cocky and confident attitude.

"Duncan…we can't just up and _leave _can we? And I'm a nationally wanted criminal! I can't exactly _start over_! This is your craziest idea yet!"

"What do we have to lose? Do you want to stay here and rot, or do you want to try and go after something better? You even said that we have to keep going. We can't keep going here. We need to run away!"

"Duncan. This is crazy!"

"Look, just pack up your bags. I'll pack up mine. We can leave tomorrow morning in my car and just _drive. _See how far away we can get. See where we can go. Gwen, please. I don't want to go alone."

Duncan was crazy. But then again, with my emotional state, I think I was too. Somehow, against all logic, we were going to run. We didn't know where we were going or how we were going to live, but we were going to do it. Somehow.

"We'll leave right after Heather goes to work. Be ready." Duncan gently shut the door behind him before sprinting off, presumably to his own bedroom.

I sighed. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Ruthie looked up at me, smiling a goofy, confused smile.

"Mommy, what does 'criminal' mean?"


End file.
